


you've been a hollowed-out apple (though you're standing up straight)

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Tower, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash If You Squint, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Steve, consciously or not, had a Captain Face. Everyone had a certain set of expressions they returned to in certain situations. Memorizing them was one of Tony’s... idiosyncrasies, as JARVIS would say. Not all of them had names, because a name required a context and Steve’s was being Captain America—the one he used when fighting, when speaking to the media, when leading the team.But it's making an appearance more and more often, in contexts it really shouldn't be, and Tony is concerned. And for the first time in his life, he's more right than he ever wanted to be.





	

Though it’d been months since they’d pulled him from the ice, Steve Rogers still felt cold. Not at a level perceptible to others. There were no goosebumps—he didn’t actually get them any more, a factoid Tony had learned through an offhand conversation at a pool party they’d organised for the team. Neither of them had actually gotten into the water, but everyone was too distracted to notice. And so they’d talked, and came away from it knowing more about one another than they did before. Or, at least, Tony had. He wasn’t so sure about his teammate.

Steve, consciously or not, had a Captain Face. Everyone had a certain set of expressions they returned to in certain situations. Memorizing them was one of Tony’s... idiosyncrasies, as JARVIS would say. Not all of them had names, because a name required a context and Steve’s was being Captain America—the one he used when fighting, when speaking to the media, when leading the team. Captain Face.

Captain Face had made an appearance far too many times for a casual conversation. And so it was stuck in Tony’s head, because it was _disconcerting._ Some people, he was okay with not being able to read. Natasha, for instance, had faces too, but she was in constant control. What she expressed might not be what she was thinking and he could accept that. That was fine. But Steve was Steve, and the more he thought and compared and tried to drag up memories from conversations and battles past, the more troublesome it became.

It wasn’t the existence of the expression that bothered Tony so much as that post-pool-party, he’d started to see it in way, way too many contexts. He’d said hi to Steve in the hallway and gotten the not-quite-blank Captain-America smile back. Met him in the gym and met the Captain instead of Steve, the interaction seeming more and more forced as it went on. Tony left first.

“Jarvis, check the camera records of the gym,” he commanded after returning to his workshop, “starting just before I left.”

“Certainly, sir.” came the AI’s response, and a video appeared on a holographic display on the inside of Tony’s lab glasses. As he’d expected, Steve’s Captain Face disappeared as soon as he turned his back. The removal of the facade didn’t seem to give the man any relief, however. He looked deeply unhappy, which was not one that Tony had seen before.

“Jarvis, use your facial expression recognition algorithm. Has Steve ever looked like that... any other time?” Tony bit his lower lip, face grim.

“I’ve found over a hundred potential hits.” JARVIS replied smoothly. “Spanning across the entirety of Steve’s residence in the Tower, but with a sharp increase recently. I will admit, I am also concerned.”

After seeing the rest of JARVIS’s data and comparing it to his own observations, Tony began to understand why. Steve hardly seemed to sleep, substituting it for wrapping himself tightly in as many blankets as are available and shaking. And for a man who for all outward appearances was the epitome of stoic, he spent a lot of time, well... not appearing to cope. Crying, anxiety attacks, lying in bed for hour on end whenever he knew his absence wouldn’t be noted. And nobody had noticed, except for, apparently, JARVIS. Who hadn’t said anything about it, which pissed Tony off, because if his friends weren’t doing well, then he wanted to know, damnit.

“He instructed me not to let anyone know,” was the AI’s defence, “I would have without prompting had it reached a stage where Captain Rogers was objectively a danger to himself, but prior to that it was against my protocols. Which you put there.”

“What’s he doing now?” Tony asked.

“Sitting on his bed.” Jarvis said. “If you plan to go up there, I suggest you move quickly; he is holding a knife.”

Tony arrived in Steve’s apartment only a few minutes later, holding a hastily-made hot chocolate in one hand and his half-drunk, nearly-cold coffee in the other. Steve glanced up, then looked back at the blade sheepishly.

“You weren’t going to do anything with that, right?” Tony said, setting down the mugs on a nearby table.

“It wouldn’t do anything, anyway.” Steve said dully. “Heal too fast for that.”

“Can I sit?”

“I guess.”

Tony sat on the bed next to him, the mattress sinking under their combined weight. “So, this is what’s been going on with you.” he began.

Steve shrugged, and looked down. “I don’t know how you could tell, I really don’t.” he replied. “I thought—I thought I was doing so well, as a leader, and I’ve failed, and I have to keep acting like I’m—like I’m—”

Oh, crap. This was way out of the scope of what some hot chocolate could fix. “Are you drunk?” Tony asked cautiously.

“Can’t.” Steve said, flashing a bitter smile. “Serum did away with that.” There was a silence, and then Tony spoke again.

“Why open up to me now?” Tony asked, then regretted the wording and rephrased. “Uh, what I mean is. Why use so much effort hiding your emotions whenever I’m around, then suddenly, this?”

“Jarvis asked me to.” Steve replied. “Said that if you ever came down when I was like this, not to hide. So I agreed to that.” He stared straight ahead, expression pained. “You’re not going to want me as your leader any more, are you?”

“No, no, uh,” Tony began, “you’re a great leader, really great. I do think you should take some time off, but that has more to do with, well, this,” he waved an arm in Steve’s general direction, “than your skill. And I’d rather be led by you than anyone else, any day.” Tony looked at his feet, suddenly feeling awkward. “Do you, uh, want a hot chocolate?”

“Sure.” Steve said, taking the cup but not drinking from it.

“And by the way, this thing with the knife and the hiding and stuff? Please, please, don’t do it again.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” the morose supersoldier beside him asked. Tony waved his hands.

“Talk to me. Talk to Bruce. Or anyone else,” Tony said, “and there’s, uh, therapy for things like this. It can get better.”

“Don’t want a shrink.” Steve replied.

“That’s fine, then. But it’s different nowadays. They don’t do all that wacko experimental shit on people now, and I can guarantee you, every single last one of us on the team has seen at least one at some point in their careers.”

“Even you?”

Tony snorted. “Do I look like a paragon of mental health?”

“Comparatively.” Steve said, smiling a little.

“Well, you can thank medication for that.” Tony said. “Um, would it be alright if I brought Bruce up here?” Steve gave an aimless shrug.

“Taking that as a yes. Jarvis, can you page Bruce and ask him to come here?”

 “Already done.” The AI responded. A few minutes later, Tony heard the door slide open. Steve covered his face with his hands. Bruce stepped into the apartment cautiously, then paused when he reached the doorway into Steve’s bedroom.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, eliciting a shrug from Tony and Steve to bury his head deeper into his arms. “Jarvis didn’t tell me much, he just said to come. And honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got here. Something kinky, probably.” He paused for a response and was met with uncharacteristic silence from his teammates. “Wrong thing to say?”

“Sit down.” Tony said, simply. “Steve, Bruce knows a lot about this kind of thing. You should talk to him. I can go, if you like, but... screw ‘should’, I think you need to.” He glanced at Steve, who’d looked back up towards Bruce, laying his arms at his side.

Bruce sat down next to Steve, putting him in the middle.

“Tony. Don’t go.” Steve said. “Bruce.”

“Yes?” Bruce replied.

“Thanks.” Steve said, face an image of pain. After a period of silence, Steve began his story. It began in the Second World War. He’d put his plane down, honestly accepting that this was the end, he was going to die, and that it was probably a good thing.

“Hold on.” Tony interjected. “A good thing?” Bruce motioned for him to shut up, and Steve closed his eyes and continued. He’d woken up nearly a century later. Still had the skills to lead people, and ended up leading them in another battle. And from there? It had never stopped. So Steve had made the sacrifice play over and over, putting himself in harm’s way ostensibly to protect the team but in reality trying to get himself killed.

“I thought—if it happened like that, nobody would know. And if it didn’t, then I was still helping accomplish the objective. Save people.” He looked down, not making eye contact with either of his teammates.

Bruce looked at him pityingly. “I understand.”

Tony hugged Steve. It seemed like the best thing to do in the moment.

 

Some time after that, Steve fell asleep. Bruce and Tony left his apartment, but only after asking Jarvis to keep an active watch.

“How didn’t I see this coming?” Bruce asked.

“Believe me, I didn’t see half of it, either.” Tony said. “Which is interesting, because I’ve done the whole ‘sacrifice play’ thing before. So I should know it when I see it, but I didn’t.”

Bruce shook his head. “Not even that. Just... in general. It was always clear that something was off, but I never knew what, because he always seemed fine. So I wrote it off as undue worry.”

“It’s an act.” Tony said. “Wouldn’t’ve caught him if not for that I’m good at faces.”

“Good at faces?” Bruce snorted. “Tony, that’s my area.”

“Whatever. Point being, I knew something was up and asked Jarvis if he thought something was up and he did, but wasn’t telling me.”

“In my defense, I was instructed by Captain Rogers not to alert you.” JARVIS cut in. “He didn’t mention what to do if you’d asked.”

Bruce shuffled in his seat. “So, what are we going to do about this?”

Tony shrugged. “That’s kind of what I grabbed you for.”

“I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Well, as _not that kind of doctor_ , I think we need to get him to a medical one.” Bruce said. “Not inpatient—I don’t think it would do any good. Fury could help us find one trustworthy enough, though.”

“Fury would kick him off the team!” Tony replied.

“Well, maybe that’s what he needs.” Bruce said, realising he had been elevating his voice and bringing it down a notch.

“I agree that he needs a break. But he’s still an Avenger.” Tony replied. “And when he’s up for it again, I want him fighting beside us.”

“I agree.” Bruce replied. “But Fury’s our best shot.”

Natasha appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, behind Bruce. “Best shot for what?”

“Sit down.” Tony said. “It’s going to be a long night.”

 

By morning, a plan had been formulated and a meeting had been set up with Fury, who was _not_ pleased with the time he’d been called at but accepted anyway. Tony went with Natasha, Bruce staying behind to make sure nothing happened to Steve while they were out. It almost felt like a betrayal for Tony to stand there and tell Fury what he’d seen and heard that night, but the director’s response was relieving. Steve was still on the team, but placed on a mental health leave. One of SHIELD’s doctors would see him the following day, who would probably refer him to a therapist. When Tony relayed this to Steve afterwards, he thought he saw a faint smile.

“Bruce explained that the system’s not like it used to be.” Steve said. “They—they don’t just lock you away.”

“You were scared of that.” Tony replied. “Look, even if it was still what they did, I wouldn’t let them do that to you. You’re _my_ Steve, and I only have one.”

“Your Steve.”

“Yeah.” Tony said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. I like it.” He paused. “Do the others know about this?”

“Natasha does. So, probably Barton as well, by extension. Thor’s off in Asgard, so I’d say no.” Steve buried his face in his hands again. Tony frowned. “It’s a good thing, Steve. We’re all looking out for you. We all care.”

“What if I don’t?” was the single, broken, response.

  
“Then we’ll do the caring until you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> I wrote this over the course of some hours where I needed to get the idea in my head onto a page, so it's unbeta'd. If anyone spots any glaring errors, please let me know.
> 
> I don't consider H/C my genre, but consider this my contribution. If you liked it, please leave a comment :3
> 
> The title is from "The Universe Is Going To Catch You" by The Antlers. It's a good song. Check it out if you like.


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